You Never Know What You're Gonna Get
by the little spanko
Summary: WARNING: SPANKING Written for Spanking World's 12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Life is like a box of chocolates. Dana and someone surprising have a strange encounter. WARNING: SPANKING
1. Chapter 1

09 DEC

Today I came home to a single long stem rose, deep red and thorn free, white satin ribbon tied in a bow around the stem, sitting against my front door. It was a happy surprise at the end of a long, difficult day.

My feet are still killing me. Mulder insisted on searching the loading docks without back up for our suspect. Of course, he'd told me we'd be going to a series of meetings related to another case. As usual, Mulder's hunch proved correct, and we spent the better part of two hours chasing our suspect, a Darrell Haines, on foot - me in heels. Haines got away.

I was not in the best of moods by the time I got home. Seeing that rose, however, made my day better. Was it an apology from Mulder? Unlikely. Was it from the cute, shy neighbor down the hall? I hope so. Who else would be leaving me a rose - well, there's always Frohike I suppose.

10 DEC

Today Mulder insisted we eat lunch at an old diner, which had sticky menus and a large fly population, so that he could speak with a Tobias Grot. Grot claims to be descended from a reptilian race of aliens bent on the sexual exploitation of all other humanoids throughout the galaxies. Mulder had told me that Grot was high up on the chain of the alien cover up, and that he wanted to blow the whistle on the group running the cover up. I'm going to have to talk to him again about lying to me. _Luckily _for us, Grot finds the exploitation of all humanoids immoral and unnerving, and he is willing to become an informant to the FBI against his own people. ...I don't know how Mulder finds these people.

On my way in to my apartment building I passed the cute neighbor again. He smiled nervously. There was a squishy white teddy bear sitting at my door. I think it's from him! I was going to try to go out and talk to him, but my phone was ringing in my apartment. Mom wants a girl's night this Saturday. Should I tell her? She might do something embarrassing.

11 DEC

I am so angry with Mulder. He ditched me again to chase after a suspect. He took the car, leaving me standing there like an idiot with two cups of to-go coffee [he just _had _to have coffee] in freezing weather. The suspect got away - again, Mulder lost his gun - again, Mulder failed to answer his cell phone - again, he broke protocol and put himself in mortal danger - again - and he caused $2000 worth of damage to our FBI sedan. The only thing he did correctly was to not get injured.

I don't always condone A.D. Skinner's method of reigning my partner in, but I have to admit that it works. With Skinner out on personal leave this month, Mulder has run amuck. We can't keep going like this anymore. Hopefully Skinner will get my message and take Mulder in hand. I don't want to be the one to do it. We're partners.

Thankfully I came home to another gift. He left a mix tape this time. My heart began skipping beats when I saw it. I wasn't certain whether it was from him or if it was evidence from some shady informant. My heart raced when I saw it was from him. It has my name drawn in a fancy script on the cover with some drawn flowers, and a track list on the inside of the label. We like the same music! Knocked on his door to thank him, but he wasn't home. So instead, I'm playing the tape and eating ice cream in my sweats.

No present today. I was really counting on one today after all the trouble Mulder caused. It's surprising how sad I am that there's no present. This is silly, Dana. Be thankful for what you were given.

The door is unlocked.

I pull out my gun and cock it, then turn the knob quietly. Opening the door silently, I do a quick scan. Living room is clear. Dining room and kitchen are clear. ...wait. A box of chocolates sits on the table along with a bottle of red wine. He came inside? Is he still here...

I turn to check the bedroom and see the bedside table lit through the open door.

"FBI, I'm armed," I say.

No response.

"I'm coming in."

There's a sound in the bedroom.

I approach my bedroom quickly and round into the room, gun aimed.

_Krycek?_

"What are you doing here?"

He's standing awkwardly in the shadiest corner, watching me. His empty hands hang loosely at his sides, there could be a weapon in his over-sized leather jacket. I keep the gun on him.

"I brought you more presents."

Oh. Of course they weren't from the cute neighbor. That would be too ordinary of an event to happen to me. No, my secret admirer has to be a traitorous assassin who breaks into my apartment and hides in my bedroom.

"Wanna see?" he asks while I'm still internally grousing about my life.

"No," I grip the gun tighter, my disappointment making my heart pound away in my chest. "I already saw them." I nod towards the kitchen. "What I do want is your hands on your head. You're under arrest."

"I don't mean those," he says in a silky voice usually reserved for Mulder.

"I don't care! Hands on your head."

He smirks at me, then nods at the dresser to my right as he complies.

"There's information in there that will help you." He nods again, somehow managing an innocent grin. "Look."

A thick file with a 'classified' stamp sits on my dresser. Side stepping to the dresser, I flip it open with one hand, the other keeping the gun pointed at Krycek.

"Why did you bring this to me?"

"Mulder always hits me." He puts his arms down to his sides.

The information in the file will help seal our case against Haines. There has to be a price.

"What do you want, Krycek?"

He playfully pouts at me. "Am I still under arrest?"

"Breaking and entering," I emphasize.

"I couldn't leave that file on your doorstep, and I couldn't keep it on me out there," he nods out the window and then shrugs.

This is likely true, but it's Krycek and so I'm skeptical.

He looks at me from under his brow, "If I've done something wrong, you could always spank me for it." His mouth quirks in amusement, but his eyes look worried.

Trying not to show my surprise at the suggestion, I huff. Do all the men in my life get spanked?

"I thought you brought this to me because you didn't want to be hit."

"I don't. Especially not by Mulder, but I also don't need the mess of you trying to arrest me, so..." he holds his hands out.

I want to stall for time, so I change the subject.

"The mix tape..."

"Good, right?" he smiles.

God, I started to smile back.

"I'm glad you liked it."

I clear my throat and ask, "How did you know my favorite songs? Have you been watching me?"

His eyes widen and he swallows. "No," he says in a put out tone. Then more softly he says, "I like 70s classic rock and 80s pop. Those songs reminded me of you."

"What's really going on here, Krycek? You've never shown any interest before."

"It wasn't beneficial to me to show it." He sighs and looks down. "Look, Dana, I've done bad things. I'm going to do more bad things, I'm sure, but that doesn't have to be a problem. We both want the same thing."

"And what's that?"

His eyes darken and he tilts his head down so that they fall into shadow from his brow. "To win."

"Win what?"

"The war against the alien invasion. The war against the men who sold us all out so that they'd be safe and the invasion would go smoothly. Neither of us are gonna sit by and let it happen. We're on the same side."

"Mulder..."

"Mulder is a reckless boy scout who won't get his hands dirty. Stakes are too high to play by the rules, especially when the enemy _**isn't**_."

Krycek taking the moral high ground is not something I'm comfortable allowing.

"So what is this? Is this how a wanted double agent asks a girl out on a date?"

He looks at me sideways and smiles cautiously. "No. This is me saying I appreciate you. Spending as little time around enemies as necessary is how I survive, I'm sure as hell not going after Mulder's girl."

And yet, here you are. ...Mulder's girl?

"But if you wanna," he nods at the bed, "you know." He smiles obscenely at me.

Rolling my eyes I uncock the gun and holster it. My arms are getting tired and it's clear he's not going to attack me.

"Not interested," I tell him, just to be clear.

He humphs at me and brushes past me out of the bedroom. Good, let yourself out. I flip the file back open, and then I hear kitchen cabinets opening and closing.

I find Krycek rummaging through my cabinets.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Looking for," he starts, and then he pulls out a wine glass. "Here we go." He's already found the bottle opener.

Krycek opens the wine and pours himself a glass. He takes a long drink and refills his glass, then sits at the table and pops open the box of chocolate.

"Hey!"

"What? You're not interested, I'll enjoy it."

I stand there and blink at him a few times, confused by the sudden change.

"This is my home," I say, and I know it sounds ridiculous but I can't believe the sudden rudeness and idiocy.

"I know where I'm at," he says, biting into a piece of chocolate and taking a sip of wine. "This is really good, you're missing out." He shrugs and pops the entire piece of chocolate into his mouth.

"It's time for you to leave."

"In a bit."

"I want you out."

"Hey, I brought you the file. Let me finish."

"So you thought I'd, what, have sex with you for it?"

He crinkles his forehead at me, "Don't make me sound cheap."

Make you sound cheap?

I walk towards him and see he's already eaten a sizable amount of chocolate. I nudge his shoulder, "Get out." I reach for the chocolate, but he pulls it to him. "You'll make yourself sick."

"So? What's it to ya?"

Then it dawns on me, and I feel anger well up inside of me.

"Are you trying to eat the whole box in front of me to spite me?"

No answer. Just an angry flash of the eyes.

Shaking from nerves and anger, I walk over and pick up my biggest wooden spoon. Krycek stops chewing as soon as I pick it up, even though my back is to him. When I turn around, his expression is just like a scared, guilty little boy who knows they're in deep trouble.

He stares at me for a moment and then slowly asks, "Do you want some chocolate?" He tentatively holds the box of chocolate out towards me.

"In a bit. Stand up," I tell him, then I start testing the spoon on the palm of my hand.

He clumsily stands, nearly knocking the chair over in the process.

"I should go," he says, beelining towards the door.

"We're not done yet," I say, my words freezing him in half stride. "Come back over here."

He lowers his head and raises a fist to the bridge of his nose. I can almost hear his internal 'oh no.' After a moment he looks back at me, and I raise an eyebrow at him. He walks back to the chair he'd been sitting in.

"Take the jacket off," I say, and then, because of his raised brow, amend "I want to make sure you don't have any weapons."

With two fingers he pulls out a silenced Glok out of an inner pocket and sets it on the table. He pulls a six shooter from the back of his jeans and sets it next to the Glok, and then he shrugs out of his jacket and lays it next to the guns. He has on a fitted white vneck tshirt and the ever present tight black jeans with boots.

"I can get you more chocolate," he says dourly.

"Not the point. Bend over the back of the chair." I crane my neck up to give him an authoritative look, and I watch him deflate.

He wants to argue, I can see it, but he can't quite seem to. He shifts his weight side to side, making a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan, when I stand firm he drops his head and bends over the back of the chair. This pulls his jeans tight over his rounded ass, and I can't help but blush. Just because he isn't enjoying this doesn't mean that I can't. He suggested that I do this, for God's sake, and he more than deserves it!

Internal pep talk over, I tentatively lay my left hand on his warm lower back and then take aim. I take aim a few times, trying to decide where to smack him. I can see he's getting fidgety, and so I bring the spoon down on the fullest part of his bottom, right in the middle.

He cries out adorably and wraps his fingers around the seat of the chair for support. I smack him on the fullest part of his right cheek and he bounces over the chair, making a high pitched noise. When I smack the same area of his left cheek he yells out and momentarily kicks both legs up. I find a good rhythm, pausing in between each smack so that I can watch his reaction. It doesn't take many before he looks back at me with tears in his eyes. Nope, he's not enjoying this.

"Let me up," he says pitifully, and then adds an elongated 'please.'

"You told me I could do this to you. Then you were a bad boy, not five minutes later."

His face blushes when I call him a 'bad boy' and I giggle.

"I'm sorry," he says, furrowing his brow woefully.

Maybe I _**should** _do this to Mulder.

"What were the gifts really for?"

"Don't ask me that right now, _please_?"

"If I stop will you tell me?"

"I'll try."

I stop and he wipes at his face before standing. I look up at him, waiting as he tries to figure out a way to rub his bottom without me noticing.

He looks from me to the ground, "I. I just thought you'd like them. You did, didn't you?"

"Why is that important to you?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're pretty or maybe I wanted to butter you up so you wouldn't shoot me when I gave you the file, what's it matter?"

There's a 50% chance Alex Krycek has a crush on me. This isn't a good thing.

He looks so glum, and I shouldn't care with all the things I know he's done, but somehow I do.

"If you can be good I'll make you some tea."

"Peppermint?" he asks hopefully. Most of his mannerisms are still very boyish. I'm guessing these more endearing qualities have helped keep him alive.

I nod, "I have peppermint."

Happiness shines in his eyes, and I can't help smiling as I go to boil the water.

He doesn't sit, but he also doesn't come into the kitchen with me, either. He hangs in between, looking around insecurely as though he's not used to being in a safe space.

"How'd you get the file?"

He grumbles, "You don't wanna know."

I'm sure he's right about that.

"Nice place," he indicates the apartment with a turn of his arm. "Cozy."

I set out two mugs and pop a teabag in each, "Thanks, I like it."

He nods, "It suits you."

Laughing, I ask, "Are you calling me a little old lady?"

"No," he says, shaking his head vehemently. Then he chuckles, "Well, maybe the 'little' part."

The kettle whistles and I fill the mugs. He follows me to the table and sits next to me.

"How did you end up in all this?"

He looks at me from under his lashes, "Ego and misinformation."

"Wow, that's honest." I take a sip of my tea. Maybe there's hope for him.

He mirrors me and sips his own tea. Then, as though reading my thoughts he says "Don't be fooled, I'll do what I need to survive."

I look at him a long moment. "I expect that's how you've made it this far."

He looks sad at that. "You have no idea." Suddenly he looks crushed, and he downs his tea and then sets the mug down. "I should be going," he says, and he's up at the door with jacket on and guns tucked away before I can argue. "Lock up when I leave."

And then he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2 Spank Me, Santa

"I can't believe you didn't _shoot_ the bastard, Scully!" Mulder rages around our office, hissing and grumbling. He's been in a petulant mood since yesterday morning when I brought the file in that Krycek gave me.

"Mulder, he didn't give me any reason to shoot him."

Mulder turns on me and throws his arms out to his sides dramatically, "Breaking and entering!"

I huff and smile patiently up at him.

"I don't know what to say, he never threatened me and he gave us good information."

"Nothing good has ever come from Krycek." Mulder flops into his desk chair and glowers at me. No, scratch that. He flops down into his desk chair and _pouts_ at me.

"Actually, the file he gave us..."

"_You,_" Mulder interrupts.

I take a deep breath. "The file he gave **me** is full of good information that'll not only lead to the conviction of Haines, but that will also go a long way in bringing down a branch of the Consortium."

Mulder folds his arms and glares at me.

"I'd think you'd be happy. This is a big hit to them and a big win for us, what does it matter where it came from?"

He's up and pacing again.

"It _matters_, Scully," he whines.

"Mulder," I say in a firm tone, "I'm not going to listen to this a second day in a row. We have work to do."

He stops and studies me, not used to this tone of voice coming from me. A few seconds later he looks down at the floor abashed and rubs the back of his head.

"You're right," he says quietly, "I'm sorry."

I nod in acceptance. "I'd like to check the clinic associated with the Consortium's new branch." I smile at him, "There's already a car waiting."

He smiles back, "You signed out a car for us already?"

I give a playful bow and he chuckles.

"Have you finished all of your Christmas shopping?" I ask as he drives.

Mulder shoots a grin at me and asks playfully, "Are you trying to get clues about your present, Scully?"

"You got me a present?" I can't help but smile. The idea of Mulder Christmas shopping for me is always amusing.

He nods proudly, "I did. You'll love it."

"Well, I got you a gift too," I say, and his eyes light up. "Are you coming over for Christmas?"

"Sure, Mom and I celebrate on Christmas Eve."

I smile again. It's sometimes hard to get Mulder to participate in family events and I hate the thought of him being alone.

The drive to the clinic is only fifteen minutes. Mulder finds an out of the way place to park so that we can stake out the clinic before going in.

"Well, everything appears normal from out here," I say.

Mulder spits the shell of a sunflower seed out of the window. "Yeah." Then he looks at me with a grin and says in his Vincent Price voice, "But what secrets will we find dwelling inside?"

That makes me laugh. It's nice having upbeat Mulder back.

Agreeing that we aren't going to see much that'll help us from the car, we get out and walk through the front door.

"Yes, my friend needs to see a doctor," Mulder tells the lady at the check-in desk.

"We're not a normal clinic, sir," she says warily.

"Oh, we know. She's a patient here and she's having pains in her upper right quadrant. Is that normal?" Mulder lies smoothly. I wince and hold the area in question. "We were told to come in if there were any complications."

The lady looks from Mulder to me a few times, "I better get someone for you. Please take a seat."

She walks away, quickly disappearing down the hall on the right and Mulder and I share a look.

"I don't think she's coming back with a doctor and a lollipop," Mulder quips.

"I think you're right," I look at the hall on the left and raise an eyebrow at Mulder.

We both pull our guns and walk down the left hall. There are four patient rooms, two on each side of the hall and all empty. At the end of the hall are two labs, facing each other.

One lab has freezer units, a lab table and measuring equipment. The other is a chemical lab.

"That one," I say, nodding towards the lab with the freezers. The door is unlocked.

The records show that, rather than being a private medical clinic, that this is a fertilization clinic. Mulder opens a freezer unit and finds rows of bottled embryos. Most don't look fully human.

"Scully," he breathes in excitement. "This is it!" He pulls one of the bottles out and pockets it. "Do you know what this could mean?"

We hear footsteps coming from down the hall and we pull our guns, taking cover against the wall next to the door. The footsteps stop to look in each room, and get closer and closer, until finally the door flies open.

Two well armed men storm in and a third, the leader, follows.

"This is private property," the leader says as we're grabbed.

"We're FBI agents," Mulder tries as our weapons are taken.

"I don't care who you are. You shouldn't be here," then he nods at the men holding us and we're dragged out into the hall and towards the desk.

Just as we reach the end of the hall and walk into the main lobby, a delivery man with a package walks in with his head down and a baseball cap hiding his face. Even in duress I notice his muscular body showing through over the tight uniform.

"Krycek?!" Mulder yells.

The delivery man pops his head up - and it _is_ Krycek.

The armed men start to aim at him, and all three are on the ground before they can succeed. Krycek points the smoking gun at Mulder and I.

"What are you doing here, Krycek?"

"Shut your damn mouth and get out!" he yells back, avoiding any eye contact with me.

"Krycek," I say in a disappointed voice, and his eyes snap to mine. He looks at me with guilty, regretful eyes for a moment and then he looks to the right.

Two guards have appeared from nowhere and have Krycek in their cross-hairs. I pull my back up gun and take aim.

"FBI, drop your weapons," I yell, but the shorter guard begins to squeeze the trigger. I shoot and he falls to the ground. The other guard lowers his gun, and Krycek shoots him in the heart.

"Thanks Santa," he grins at me, aiming his gun at us once more and walking towards the hall on the right. We edge towards the door and I tentatively aim at Krycek.

He furrows his brow and laughs at me, then checks to make sure no more guards are coming, opens the package and pulls out some c4. He places c4 around the room, and turns to us and aims the gun at me.

"Drop it and kick it to me."

I do what he says, kicking away my back up gun.

"You're trying to cover it up, you rat bastard!" Mulder yells at him, stepping in front of me.

"You've had that file for over twenty four hours," Krycek says. "You missed your window. Always check the medical centers _first_. This place is going boom."

"Give us more time," I say and he closes his eyes for a moment.

"You want more time?" he asks. "Come on, down the hall," he wags the gun at the hall with the labs.

We walk ahead of him down the hall.

"Keep going, last door on the right."

We walk down the length of the hall. I glance over my shoulder and see him planting c4 as we go.

"In," he says at the door of the lab with the embryos.

Mulder and I exchange a look, but do as we're told.

"Now, you're going to destroy the evidence for me." He looks at Mulder, "You smash what's in those freezers." He looks towards me, but not at me, "And you shred the paperwork, got it?"

"And if I don't?" Mulder asks.

"I shoot your partner."

"You son of a bitch!" Mulder yells.

"Mulder, just do it," I say, already starting on the files.

Krycek smirks at me and then looks at Mulder, "You heard her."

Mulder's head drops in defeat and he starts smashing the embryos onto the floor.

Krycek hops up on a counter and watches us, smirking at us the entire time.

"Good job," he says when we're done. "I should take you two to all my jobs."

"Go to hell," Mulder tells him.

Krycek smiles widely and hops off the counter. He places three more pieces of c4.

"Now," he looks at Mulder, "you're going to trash the chem lab like you did in here, but you're going to bring enough benzyl alcohol and ether back to cover the floor in here. Scully will stay with me, and if you do the job well she'll stay safe."

"I'm gonna kill you," Mulder growls at him.

Krycek smiles and looks at his watch. "You've got two minutes, Scully and I will be down the hall waiting."

Mulder looks at me nervously, but I nod him on and he reluctantly goes.

"C'mon Scully," Krycek says, indicating with his gun that I'm to go first.

I glare at him as I pass him, causing him to look down.

We go halfway down the hall and wait for Mulder, who finishes quickly.

Krycek grabs me, pushing me down the hall towards Mulder, then pushes me into Mulder as he turns to run.

Mulder is slow to react from inhaling the chemicals, and I have to pull him up. By the time we get out and to our car, Krycek is no where to be seen. I shove Mulder into the passenger seat and hop in the driver's seat. I have to adjust everything before starting the car.

I speed away, and when we're three blocks away the building blows.

"Mulder, are you ok? Mulder?"

He looks intoxicated and happy, and he rolls his head to look at me.

"I'm fine, Scully," he slurs with a smile. "Think I'm getting a headache."

"Yeah, that's probably the ether." I reach over and check his pulse; it's normal. Pulling over, I check him over and thankfully he's fine. Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I call in what's happened and drive Mulder to a hospital to be checked and then home to rest. The rest of my day is spent sorting out the bombing and what led up to it.

When I get to my apartment my door is unlocked again. I reach for my gun, then remember I don't have one.

Taking a deep breath I walk in, knowing that it's Krycek waiting for me.

He's sitting at my table drinking tea and looking very sheepish. And adorable. _Dana_, I inwardly kick myself.

"Hey," he says quietly.

I glare at him, "What are you doing here, Krycek."

"You weren't supposed to be there today," he said, looking into his mug.

"It didn't seem to hinder your plans."

He looks up at me with large eyes and purses his lips.

"I killed a man!"

"Thank you," he says in a sincere tone.

"You pointed a gun at me!"

Krycek looks at the floor in between us, "That's why I'm here."

"Why, so you can point your gun at me again?" I grind out.

He pushes the mug away and looks up at me with large, sad eyes, "No."

Then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, there's fear and hesitation in them.

"I'm here ... remember what you did last time I was here?" A blush creeps over his face. I get angry at myself for finding it precious.

I nod.

His eyes go back and forth in a loop between me and his hands as he says, "I'm here because I thought maybe I deserved that again."

"You think a spanking is going to make what you did right?"

He flinches and looks up at me, "No." Then he faintly grins, "It'd probably make you feel better, though."

It probably would.

"You know I didn't like it last time," he says, staring at his hands.

Watching him helps calm some of my anger enough for me to consciously recognize that Krycek is not a sociopath. He feels guilt; and not only does he feel guilt, he's come to me for punishment to try and make things right in a way that's very disagreeable to him.

"You were like a different person today," I say, then inwardly flinch at how it sounds.

"I was working," he says, then quickly adds, "I know that doesn't make it right. It's just how it is."

"You choose to continue that work," I tell him, and he lowers his head.

Considering things for a moment I say, "If I do this, it's going to be bad for you."

He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. "I know."

Somehow I don't see anything else to do.

"Get up, take your jacket off." I slink out of my suit jacket and lay it over the back of my couch as he complies. He sets his guns on the table without me asking, and that's when I see that both of my guns and Mulder's gun are on the table as well.

I walk across the apartment and past him and get the big wooden spoon. When I turn towards him, his brow is knit and he's staring at the spoon with a terrified look on his face.

"Bend over the back of the chair, please," I say. My voice sounds tired to my own ears.

Krycek nods and gives me a sad look as he bends over. "I'm sorry, Dana."

Walking to him, I place my left hand on his lower back and bring the spoon down hard on his tight ass.

"Ow!" he yells and twists to the side.

"Be still," I scold.

"Yes Dana," he answers in a soft, sweet tone, and for some reason a warmth spreads through me.

I strike him again and he manages to stay in place, but he grabs onto the seat of the chair and yells out again.

We do this for about a minute, his cries getting higher and higher in pitch as we go.

I spank him with the spoon again and he hops from one foot to the other and yells in a high voice. It's absolutely precious.

Looking at that tight jean clad ass, I make a decision. "Stand up and take your jeans down."

His head spins towards me so fast that I'm certain the motion had to hurt his neck. He pins me with an unwilling, questioning look, so I narrow my eyes at him.

Krycek lets out a sigh and stands, his shaky hands begin undoing his jeans. "Yes Dana."

I take a deep breath as my pulse quickens at the phrase.

It takes him a moment of fumbling and sniffling before he's able to undo and push his jeans down. He's wearing tiny little black briefs that don't fully cover his cheeks and that cling to him in all the right ways. They're beautiful against his tan skin. _Traitorous double agents take the time to get tans? _

I nod at the chair and he again bends over, and the scene before me is unbelievable. This man is beautiful all over, _but his bottom_ ... he could be a butt model. He's already spanked cherry red. It looks good on him.

"I'm sorry," he tells me in a wet voice.

"Not sorry enough," I shoot back.

He whimpers, so I rub a hand up and down his back. He sniffles and pushes into my hand, desperate for contact.

"Ready?"

He nods. The spoon cracks down where ass meets thigh, he wails and bounces over the chair. The spoon is much louder on bare skin.

I spank the other cheek in the same spot and he cries out and stomps his feet a few times. The action reminds me of a little boy. It makes me smile.

The next swat to the same area has him up and rubbing as he hops.

"Ow, ow, ow," he repeats under his breath. He wipes his eyes and looks at me, blushing deeply, then bends over again.

He grips the seat of the chair again.

When the spoon connects again, he twists away and slinks off the chair.

"Stay put," I try to scold, but instead it comes out in a soothing voice.

"I really am trying," he tells me from under his lashes. He gets back in position without being told.

I pat his back for him, then pull my arm back to land the spoon once more. He hollers pitifully and then whimpers.

He throws his hand back before I land the next spank.

"Alex," I warn. _When did he become Alex?_ "Hands in front, I don't want to break a finger."

"I don't know if I can help it," he says, close to tears.

"Need me to cuff you?"

He nods.

"You might do better laying over the arm of my couch."

"OK Dana," he agrees sweetly, though I can tell he hates the idea.

I help him to stand and then lead him to the couch. His jeans are so tight that they stay at mid thigh and he doesn't have any trouble walking. He offers me his wrists when I pull my cuffs out, and I make sure they aren't too tight.

He looks at the couch, grabs a throw pillow and lays down with his hips over the arm so that his bottom is raised. His legs dangle out behind him.

I pat his back, "Ready?"

He pushes his mouth and chin into the pillow and nods.

I take aim, but it feels awkward spanking him with the spoon over the couch.

"Wait here," I set the spoon down and go to get a belt from my bedroom.

"Oh Dana," he whimpers when he sees the belt, gripping the pillow tighter.

By the time I'm at his side he's quietly crying.

He looks so sweet and so young, I sit on the edge of the couch and run my hand through his hair, rub his shoulders and wrap my arm around him. I lean my head against his and squeeze his shoulder.

"I held a gun on you today," he reminds me. "I pushed you down, I made you kill."

"Yes, you did do all of those things. And they were very bad," I agree. "But you also came here to ask for punishment."

"And to see how you were," he whispers.

Somehow that makes me very happy. I kiss the top of his head.

"This goes a long way in making up for your actions."

He turns to look at me, "Really?" His eyes are so wide and look so uncertain.

I smile and kiss his forehead. "Yes."

He smiles back.

I look at the belt, "We don't have to continue."

He knits his brow together and looks at the belt sadly, then turns the saddest puppy eyes on me I've ever seen. "Yes we do," he whimpers.

I kiss the top of his head again and stand.

Fresh tears spill down his face. He braces himself and I raise the belt.

The noise of the belt connecting with his flesh surprises me. It's _loud_. His frantic wail is almost as loud. He kicks his legs behind him and squeezes the pillow to his face.

A bright red welt appears over his cheeks. I tug his underwear down to make sure his skin is ok, and am taken aback yet again by how good he looks. The man is gorgeous, with a firm, perfectly round bottom free from hair. It's just as tan as the rest of him. _Alex tans nude! _The thought makes me a little giddy, but I store that away for later. For when he's not crying. Thankfully, there's no more damage than I'd anticipated. He's red and has welts, there are some small bruises forming, but otherwise he's fine.

I notice that Alex is watching me over his shoulder as I stare at his ass. I'm pretty certain I'm blushing, but he doesn't seem to mind what I'm doing - until I stand back and raise the belt again.

He winces and buries his face in the pillow before the belt even lands. He wails into the pillow and kicks his legs.

The belt lands again and he wails louder, straining his muscles until they shake.

The next slap of the belt has him trying desperately to reach back and cover himself, but his hands are cuffed in front of him and he can't reach.

I land the belt again and he starts sobbing gut wrenching sobs.

I toss the belt down. It doesn't matter if he thinks he needs more, he's had enough.

He curls his legs protectively over his bottom and cries his heart out into the pillow, holding on for dear life.

Sitting next to him again on the edge of the couch, I kiss the side of his head and whisper soothing noises into his ear. This helps him calm down quickly, and he turns on his side and wraps himself around me, his face in my belly.

"I'm sorry," he says through the last of his tears.

"I know," I say, holding him and petting him. "It's over, you need to let it go."

"It's not over, all the things I've done. I've hurt you before," he says bitterly, looking up at me with his head in my lap.

He tries to pull away, but I hold onto him.

"Why would you want me to stay? I'm a monster."

I run the back of my fingers over his face.

"Ego and misinformation," I repeat his words from the other day to him.

"Doesn't absolve me."

"No, but maybe this can," I reach back and squeeze his bottom. This causes him to flinch and wiggle, fresh tears stream down his face. "Did you ever know precisely what you were doing to me?"

"Once, and if I tell you about it you'll shoot me dead. I'd shoot me dead."

I don't answer. I've no idea what to say to that, no idea what he's talking about. Instead, I unlock the handcuffs and ruffle my hand through his hair.

"I'm glad you were here tonight," I tell him. It seems to bring him some peace.

"Feel better?" he asks.

I nod. "Do you?"

He thinks about it for a moment, then his eyes flash in amusement. "Yes...and no."

He lays in my lap looking up at me for a moment, then asks, "Do you think I could have some more tea?"

Giggling, I nod and we untangle ourselves from each other and stand. He gives his bottom a tentative rub and hisses, then reluctantly pulls his underwear and jeans back up.

He stands in the same place as the other day while I make our tea. When I carry our mugs to the table and sit, he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, but then joins me. He lowers himself onto his chair very slowly and winces when his bottom makes contact with the chair.

I try to engage him in conversation a few times, but he's quiet. Our tea is gone all too soon, and he stands and slips his coat back on and tucks away his weapons.

"I have ice cream. We could watch a movie," I try.

He looks at me as though I'd said something he finds adorable, but shakes his head.

"I need to go," he says.

He stands in front of me awkwardly for a moment, and then hesitantly leans in and kisses me on the cheek. I open my mouth to try and convince him to stay, but he turns and goes to the door.

"Lock up," he tells me, like he did the time before. Then he walked out.


	3. Chapter 3 Under the Mistletoe

"Skinner's back," Mulder says before I've fully got the door to our basement office open. He's sitting hunched over his desk, an air of doom looming over him.

"Back?" I say, confused, "he still has a few weeks..."

"_He knows_," Mulder interrupts in a near whimper.

"About the car?"

He nods. "And the gun, and - _everything_. He'll be here any minute to ... you know." Mulder looks like he already wants to cry.

_Skinner came back early?_ I'd want to cry too if I were Mulder. What a horrible way to start the day.

I hang up my coat and set my purse down, thinking. Every time he's been punished, I've always soothed Mulder before and after. His behavior has gotten better, but apparently only when Skinner is around.

"Well Mulder, what you did was reprehensible. You broke multiple rules and almost got yourself killed."

He looks at me in shock and heartbreak, "You think I deserve to be punished, Scully?"

Taking a deep breath, I lick my lips to give me time to gather my willpower, "I do."

Mulder's brow furrows and he holds his head in his hands despondently. His eyes drop to his desk top.

_Poor Mulder_.

"That reminds me," I say, and go to my purse. "This was returned last night," I set his new gun - the one that he'd bought to replace the gun he lost when he ditched me and which Skinner is upset about - on his desk in front of him.

"_Krycek_," Mulder hisses. His eyes glare at the gun and then they flash up to me. "Was he waiting in your apartment again?"

I nod.

"Why didn't you bring him in, Scully?!"

_Here we go_.

"He came to apologize..."

"And that excuses him from charges?!" Mulder yells indignantly, jumping up from his chair. He paces behind his desk. Then he spins to me and asks in terror, "He didn't hurt you, did he? _I'll kill'em_."

"No," I answer, my voice showing my appreciation of Mulder's fear for me. "I hurt _him_."

Mulder goes still and stares at me blankly. Then, "Good job, Scully! Did you shoot him?"

I chuckle and look at the floor. "No," I answer in an amused voice, "I spanked him."

Mulder goes open mouthed.

"He brought our guns back, apologized and asked me to spank him again," I answer defensively.

"_Again?_"

I shouldn't of said 'again.'

"The first time he broke in, I was angry and was going to arrest him. I had a gun on him..."

"Should of shot the rat bastard," he mutters.

I raise my eyebrows to quiet him. "He didn't reach for his gun, he just stood there, unarmed, and told me about the file. Then he said that if I thought he'd done anything wrong that I could always spank him."

"Great, so he's a pervert, too." Mulder folds his arms.

"He didn't like it."

He gives me a disbelieving look, "How would you know?"

I raise an eyebrow at him like he's very stupid.

He huffs. After a moment he says, "So you spanked him instead of arresting him just because he asked you to."

"No, I spanked him because..." I stop, realizing that now I'm going to have to tell him about the gifts.

Mulder is giving me a scrutinizing look, "Because _why_?"

"Mul-der," I say.

"Because _why_, Scully?" He sits on the edge of his desk and fiddles with a miniature basketball.

I close my eyes and sigh. When I open them again, Mulder is looking at me with fear in his eyes.

"Is he blackmailing you?" he asks gently.

"No. He's..." I really don't want to talk about this.

Mulder sets the ball down and stands, looking afraid for me again. "You can tell me," he says softly.

I have to tell him. It isn't right not to.

"He's been leaving me gifts. I'd thought they were from a neighbor down the hall."

"You didn't arrest him because he's interested in you?" Mulder whispers; he's very concerned now. "Scully, if you need more personal time..."

"No," I say, waving away such a ridiculous reason, "That night he'd brought me wine and chocolates. I saw them on the table when I came in, and I still thought it was the neighbor, but then I found Krycek..."

Mulder knows the layout of my apartment, and he asks "Where was he?" The only rooms not visible from the front door are the kitchen, the bedroom and part of the bathroom.

"In the bedroom," I say and wince.

"I'll kill him!" Mulder yells. "He just wanted to get you in bed!"

"Well, he did ask if I wanted to," I say, and Mulder growls. "But I told him I wasn't interested. He got upset and tried to eat all the chocolate and drink all the wine he'd brought, right in front of me to spite me. I asked him to leave, but he wouldn't. So ... I spanked him."

Mulder doesn't say anything.

"Last night he was waiting for me again. He was distraught about what he'd done. He brought our weapons back and apologized, and told me he thought he deserved to be spanked again. I warned him it'd be bad and, though he was scared, he insisted. I used the wooden spoon and then a belt on him. I left him bruised and sobbing, Mulder. He's not exactly what you think."

"How did you know he was bruised?" Mulder asks, looking at me sideways.

I bite my lip and blush.

Mulder's eyebrows go up, and then he's quiet for a moment. "Skinner did that to me once. It's terrible." He's quiet for another moment, then continues, "Krycek's a murderer, Scully, he proved it yesterday. He got you kidnapped. He killed my father. He's an evil bastard, don't let him trick you."

"He's a self-hating evil bastard," I amend.

We both look at each other sadly.

"This is my fault," he says.

I laugh incredulously, "How is any of this your fault, Mulder?"

"I should have seen what he was when he was my partner. I should of taken care of it then," he looks down, overwhelmed in guilt. "He's playing you. I don't know what he wants, but he _is_ using you."

"Even so, I can handle it."

Mulder gives me a skeptical look, "Neither of us have been able to so far. He's still out there."

"I think he might want to change sides."

Mulder rolls his eyes. "You're too smart to believe that."

"I don't believe it, but I see it as a possibility. Wanting to change and actually changing are very different things."

Tension visibly leaves Mulder's body at that statement.

"What time did he leave?"

"A little after six, why?"

He nods, "Because I had an unwelcome visitor last night too, Scully. Someone broke in and stole the bottled embryo while I was sleeping. It had to of been Krycek."

I huff and shake my head. _Dammit Krycek!_

There's a knock at the door, and then Skinner enters.

"Scully," he nods politely. His eyes go to Mulder and bore into him.

I touch Mulder's arm and give him a supportive look, then grab my purse and coat and leave.

_So that's why Krycek had to leave_, I think to myself as I walk into my favorite coffee shop. I order the seasonal Merry Xmas tea and a cookie and sit at an empty table by the window.

Well, I know he wasn't playing me. Last night was too difficult for him. Or was it? Is he on a job? What could possibly be gained, and by whom? Perhaps the point is simply to gain my trust to make his work easier for him. Or he may be getting ready to ask me for a favor. Perhaps it was always assumed I'd tell Mulder everything - but Mulder isn't budging in his opinion of Krycek. Anyone who knows Mulder would have foreseen that. Is this a way to get Mulder paranoid? And, if so, for what purpose?

I dip half of my cookie in my tea and take a bite. I'm convinced that these are the best chocolate chip cookies on the market. The tea is good as well, I can taste orange, lemon peel, cinnamon ... and something else.

The morning rush hour traffic dies down into normal DC traffic as I sit and watch. I make my tea last a full twenty minutes, and then contemplate if I should get more or head back.

Mulder was so worried, I don't want to leave him waiting for me if Skinner has finished. Part of the punishment is that Mulder has to stand in the corner until I get back, and Skinner never tells me when the spanking is done. It's best to head back, even if I'm early. I think about buying a cookie for Mulder, but decide against it. He's being punished right now for a very good reason, it'd be wrong to give him a treat. I throw away my cup, pull my coat tight against me and head out into the freezing DC morning.

I'm thankful to hear silence when I get to our floor. When I walk into the office, I find Mulder alone with his nose in a corner.

"Scully?" he asks wetly.

I put my things down and go to him. He turns and falls into my arms, crying into my neck.

"How'd it go?" I ask, holding him tight.

Mulder sniffles, "Terrible. I got - I got the belt..."

"On the bare?" I finish for him when he falters.

He nods against my shoulder and cries harder.

"Oh Mulder," I say in a sad voice, and hold him. Like clockwork, he goes into an almost infantile state after being punished. But this state doesn't last long. Soon his sobs quell and his tears dry up.

"Got your walking shoes on, Scully?" he asks suddenly with a grin, pulling himself away and rebounding with lightning speed.

"I have walking shoes here in the office, why?"

He walks to his desk and back again. He holds up and points to a section of the file Krycek gave me highlighting an old twelve story building in old DC, and then shows me his own research.

"Haines listed this building as his second to last place of employment. It's supposed to be a paper company. Thing is, I think the company is a front and I found out the property owner doesn't really exist. Any guesses what shady government agency owns it?" Mulder smirks at me.

I smile back, "I could make an educated guess. Why do I need walking shoes for a building?"

"No elevator."

_Great_. I switch my shoes.

We requisition a car and I'm surprised - as always - at Mulder's ease of mobility after a punishment. He doesn't even wince or fidget when he sits in the car.

Mulder parks down the street so that we can watch who goes in and out.

"We having turkey or ham on Christmas?" Mulder asks over a sunflower seed.

I look at him wide eyed. "Orange-brined turkey."

"Oo-la-la! Fancy," Mulder jokes. "You helping your mom cook?"

"I am. Scared?" I tease him.

"Nah. You're a doctor. You can bring me back when I die of food poisoning."

I smack him on the arm and we laugh.

After an hour of surveillance and friendly bantering we have nothing.

"I think we should go in. Yesterday we lost evidence because we were too slow," Mulder says.

"Let's go," I answer, opening my car door.

Mulder chuckles at my eagerness.

There are no cameras outside, so we walk right up and, seeing no one in the lobby, open the door and walk in. The entrance is comprised of an unmanned check-in desk, restrooms and a directory. A large marble staircase is on the right wall.

Mulder takes the stairs ahead of me, and we come to the second floor, which has one hallway with four closed doors.

Glancing at each other, we begin walking down the hall. Mulder listens at the first door we come to, and then opens it quietly. He takes a tentative look inside.

"Empty," he whispers. "It's an office." He nods at the next door and we walk to it. Again he listens at the door, and then opens it silently. "Empty office. You take the first one, I'll look in here."

I close the door gently behind him and turn to walk back to the first office.

"Freeze!" a voice calls from the steps.

I see a guard walking up the stairs, aiming a gun at me.

"We're FBI," I say.

The guard does not lower his gun.

"Please lower your gun, I'm investigating a crime," I say to let Mulder know there's a gun on me.

"You picked the wrong place to investigate," the guard says. The sounds of running feet can be heard approaching in the stairwell. _Backup_.

I put my hands up and inch away from the office that Mulder's in while the guard waves me to him and walks closer.

The guard's backup arrives - three more guards from the first floor - as the first guard yells, "You're partner needs to come out now with his hands up!"

Mulder opens the door and shuffles into the hall and we share a nervous look.

"Unholster your weapons with your index finger and thumb and set them on the floor. Real easy now," the guard says.

Mulder and I each have two guards aiming at us and, though the demand does not bode well for us, we've no choice but to comply.

"Walk to me," the guard orders.

I get to him first, and he grabs me by my hair and slams me into a wall.

"Scully!" Mulder yells, and I see him start to run to me but another guard gets to him and punches him in the stomach and then hits him on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

"Mulder!" I yell, and then I hear four bursts of air in quick succession, followed by the sound of the guards dropping to the floor. The guard on me slides down and falls to the floor. Looking back, I see Krycek holding a silenced gun with a stack of files under one arm. He's dressed all in black.

"Krycek," Mulder says in a dazed voice, and I turn to see he's kneeling on the ground and holding the back of his head.

Krycek dances over the floor, and I realize he's avoiding cameras, and runs to me. He sets the files down and grabs me by my arms, tracing the back of his fingers over the area of my face that had been slammed into the wall. His face contorts in anger and he picks me up and sets me away from the guard, and then starts kicking the guard repeatedly, though the guard is dead.

I run to Mulder and check him, his pupils seem to dilate normally, but I'm without a flashlight to check for certain. "Are you nauseous at all?"

"No," Mulder answers, watching Krycek.

"Do you feel like water is running in your neck or your ears?"

"No."

"Are you dizzy at all, Mulder?"

"_**No**_. What are you doing here, Krycek?"

Krycek stops kicking the guard and turns to look at Mulder.

"The work I sent for you to do," he tells him, then he picks up the files and hands them to me. "I didn't know if you'd get here in time."

"Thank you," I tell him, and he grins shyly.

"I didn't get here fast enough," he says. "Are you OK?"

"I am," I smile, "you got here in time."

His eyes brighten and he offers me his hand. I take it. With me up, he fetches our guns while I help Mulder up and then Krycek holds our guns out for us. I take mine politely while Mulder stares him down and then swipes it from him.

Krycek gives Mulder an amused look and says, "We gotta get out of here. There are cameras, but you've already been seen. They need to see you leave so they don't know I was here, OK?"

"Ok," I agree.

Krycek pulls his silenced gun out again and leads us down the hall, does his little dance to avoid the cameras and hops onto the stairs leading to the lobby as silent as a cat. Mulder and I cock our guns and follow.

When we near the lobby Krycek holds his hand up for us to stop, and he carefully checks to make sure the lobby is clear, then waves us on. We get outside, and I'm surprised that Krycek follows us to our car.

"You taking him to a hospital?"

"I think it'd be best," I say.

"Scully, I'm _fine_," Mulder protests, even as he's rubbing his head. A severe pout settles on his face.

"Let me go with you. You were on their cameras, they'll be looking for you," Krycek says.

"Don't trust'em, Scully," Mulder whines like a child.

Krycek sneers at him, "She's down a partner - you're not any good to her right now. Let me help."

Mulder gives me a put out look, but doesn't argue.

"Come on, Mulder, let's get you in the car," I say, and he pulls out the keys and hands them to me while I help him into the back seat. Mulder leans his head back and closes his eyes.

"I'll drive. You need to keep him awake," Krycek says.

I toss him the keys and we both get in. He pulls a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and slips both on.

"Any preference which hospital we go to?" Krycek asks as he adjusts the seat and mirrors.

"The closest will be fine," I say, "Mulder, stay awake."

"I don't have a concussion, Scully, I just have a headache," Mulder gripes.

"Crankiness is a symptom of a concussion, we're getting you checked out."

Krycek heads down the road, "He's probably fine. He's just as pissy as normal."

I give him a look in the rear view mirror and he chuckles mischievously.

Mulder kicks the back of Krycek's seat, "Go to hell."

"_Mulder,_" I half-heartedly scold.

Krycek shakes his head and chuckles to himself quietly.

We get to the hospital and park near the emergency room. Krycek pulls the cap down low to hide his face. Mulder refuses help getting out of the car and is a sour mood. Krycek makes sure to grab the files from the car and keeps watch, his eyes never stop scanning our surroundings as we walk in the emergency room.

I sign Mulder in and he's called immediately.

"Want us to go with you?" I ask.

He glares at Krycek, "No."

"Want _me_ to go with you?" I amend.

He shrugs.

I go back with him.

Krycek trails us anyway, and it takes some cajoling for the hospital staff to allow it. He waits outside the room while Mulder and I sit inside and wait for a doctor.

* * *

"_Told you _I didn't have a concussion," Mulder sasses when the doctor leaves.

I roll my eyes and laugh. Mulder grins.

"Everything good?" Krycek asks when I open the door.

I smile. "He's fine."

Krycek shoots Mulder a smart-ass look, "Told you he was as pissy as normal."

"I should arrest you," Mulder growls at him.

"For what? Saving your lives?" Krycek asks, going toe to toe with him.

"You know for what, you bastard!" Mulder yells.

"Mulder," I say, looking around the room to indicate that we were garnering attention.

Mulder relents, turning and walking away.

Krycek and I share a look and then follow.

We get to the waiting room and see that Mulder has already gone to the car.

"I should be going," Krycek says, handing me the files and then the keys.

Looking up, I see he's standing under the mistletoe and so I grab him by his jacket and pull him down to my level, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for being there today," I whisper to him, then let go.

When he stands back up he's blushing, and I'm pretty sure that I am as well. He looks at me sweetly and smiles. "Anytime," he says, and then he turns and walks away. I watch him go and then walk to the car.

Mulder is standing by the passenger door waiting for me.

He smirks at me, "You forgot to arrest him again."

I smile back. "I'm driving?"

"Figured you'd insist."

I unlock the doors and we both get in. Handing the files to Mulder I say, "I wonder what's in these?"

"Probably more breadcrumbs."

He's probably right.


	4. Chapter 4 I've Been Bad, Santa

"Mulder, it's five o'clock. Would you like a ride home?" I ask, stretching from a long day spent hunched over files. Ever since his hospital visit yesterday, he's been glued to the files Krycek gave us, which means that I have, too.

"Mulder?" I repeat.

"Hmm," he looks up at me over his reading glasses. "Oh. I think I'll stay awhile longer, Scully."

"Would you like me to stay?"

He's looking off to the side blankly, though I've grown to recognize this as meaning his mind is working ferociously at a problem.

"No," he blinks and really looks at me. He grins meekly, "Skinner'll be here soon to drive me home, anyway. I'd rather face that alone."

"I didn't realize that was part of the arrangement."

He gives me a thankful look for using that word rather than 'punishment.'

Mulder had 'forgotten' to tell me that the A.D. grounded him from driving for work, and that I was to drive us around for the next month. This little 'slip' in memory cost Mulder his full driving privileges for an entire month.

"See you tomorrow," I say and head off. The drive home is smooth and in less than a half an hour I'm walking into my building.

Putting the key in my lock, I see that the door is unlocked and I chuckle. Opening the door, the smell of homemade lasagna wafts over me. I set my purse and keys down as Krycek rounds the corner from the kitchen wearing an apron he brought with him.

He smiles and his eyes skirt the room awkwardly, "Hi."

"Should I expect you every evening?" I joke.

He gives me a demure look and shrugs. "Hungry?"

Giving him a bright look, "I am! It smells delicious."

He smiles. "It's almost done, I'm doing the bread and salad now while the lasagna cools."

"I didn't realize you cooked. To what do I owe the occasion?"

He looks down and shifts around uncomfortably.

"Alex?"

His eyes closes and his face takes on a pleased look from the use of his first name. The action is reminiscent of a cat pushing into a petting hand.

"Thought you'd like having dinner made for you. Gotta check the bread," he says, rushing back into the kitchen.

That's sweet, but it's obviously not the full story. I head to the bedroom and close the door, switch into everyday clothes and when I come back out the table is set.

Alex's eyes move over me quickly as he sets the lasagna on the table, but he doesn't say anything.

"Need some help?" I ask.

"Nope," he says with a smile, pulling a chair out for me.

_Who is this man?_ I wonder as I sit. We grin awkwardly at each other, then he disappears into the kitchen again. Looking at the table I see he's already set out the salad and there is a decanter of red wine aerating as well.

Alex comes back and offers me a basket of buttered herb garlic bread.

"Thank you," I say, taking a piece.

He sets the basket down and then serves me lasagna and pours me wine, then serves himself.

"This looks wonderful."

He smiles and nods at me to eat. I take a bite of the lasagna and am in heaven.

Alex chuckles at my expression, "You like it."

"I do," I say, and he starts eating. "How did you learn to cook so well?"

A ghost of pain flickers through his eyes and he gives me a bittersweet smile and shrugs, filling his mouth with more food.

"Well, it's delicious," I say so that the awkwardness doesn't fill the air.

"Thank you," he says after swallowing. "I'm glad you like it."

His eyes scan the table as though he's trying to think of something to talk about. "Those files helping?"

"Very much so. Mulder will probably work through the night on them."

He smirks and nods, "Sounds like him."

His eyes go to the bruise on my cheekbone, "Does it hurt?"

I grin, "I barely notice it."

He crunches into some garlic bread and glares at the bruise.

"Thanks again about yesterday," I say.

His expression turns a bit skiddish. "Don't mention it," he says nonchalantly.

"Are you OK?"

Blinking away fear, his face again looks confident. "Yeah." He eats more lasagna.

Setting my fork down I ask, "Did they find out you were there?"

Taking a deep breath he gives me a sideways glance.

"_Alex?_"

"I wanted this to wait until after dinner. Can't we just enjoy our food?"

I incline my head and we eat mostly in silence. We try to make some jilted small talk, but the impending after dinner talk looms over us.

Finally Alex pushes his plate away and says, "They pulled tape from the gas station across the street from the clinic."

My pulse starts to race. "What does this mean?"

He looks at me, "It means I had to make it up to them."

"Make it up how?"

"I've almost got things squared with them, but this was big. I had to..." he pauses.

"_What?_"

He closes his eyes. "I've been bad," he says, his voice full of apprehension and self hate.

I wait while he collects himself.

"I..." he stops and looks at me, licks his lips and starts again, "They had me stomp a judge who was trying to back out of a deal."

My stomach rolls at his admission. _Judge Ridley_. The attack had been all over the news.

"_You're_ the one who attacked Federal Jude Ridley?!" I say louder than I mean to. I didn't want to believe he was still capable of this.

Krycek flinches and nods.

"You broke his sternum and two of his ribs." The harshness of my voice has him looking at his plate. "There's internal bleeding."

"I _had_ to," he says quietly.

I push my empty plate away and fold my arms, glaring at him.

"There's something else," he says tentatively. "It's big, but can be fixed."

"What?" I ask coldly.

"I abducted a scientist, a Dr Harold Fritz, that could help them in their research. They want me to kidnap his daughter for the tests to motivate him."

Trying to keep the disgust and shock from my face, I stare at him. My own abduction comes back to me in a flash and I try not to hate him for the role I know he had to play in it. "What if you don't do it?"

"I'll be hunted for the rest of my life," real fear shows in his eyes. "If they catch me it'll be worse than death."

"You couldn't of come to us first, before any of this happened?" I ask, and my voice is harsh and thick.

He winces, "I'm coming to you now. They were waiting for me, I had to agree. If I came to you too soon, I'd still be marked."

I consider this, and he fidgets under my eye as I do so. _You'll be marked, alright_, I think to myself. "You want Mulder and I to save them?"

He nods.

"He's a diabetic. I took him from his lab. When he doesn't come home tonight, his wife will report him missing - but the authorities will insist on waiting twenty four hours before doing anything. Tomorrow when he doesn't show up at work, more heads will be raised. I'm supposed to grab the kid after school. I grabbed Fritz at nine in the morning, plenty of time for a police report before I have to grab her - and that time line has caused me problems already. Cancer Man is already pushing me to nab the girl tonight."

I see he's thought this out well, and I feel my chest loosen up. It's a tight spot to be in, but that doesn't excuse him from doing it. It most certainly doesn't excuse the attack on the judge. But, he got himself into this helping me. "They have to know you're here and what you're planning to do."

He shakes his head, "I'm good at throwing a tail, they have no idea I'm here. I wouldn't put you in danger." He takes a sip of wine, "Them knowing what I'm up to - that's a real possibility. So, I'll need you to arrest me. I'll need Mulder to rough me up."

_That'll be __**real**__ hard, _Mulder would rough him up without being asked. "What do you have planned?"

"I'm going to put a tracker on myself. I'll nab the girl and bring her in, when the tracker stops moving you'll have an exact location - down to the room. You'll say that you found the location through the files. If you compare the Epstein file I gave you yesterday with the FBI's monitoring of Haines you'll find a duplicate address. Get a warrant to search the place for Haines and instead you'll find us. With luck, Cancer Man will be there."

"Why do we need a tracker?"

"It's a big building. You'll need to know right where to go so they don't get away. That's something I don't know, or I'd tell you. The tracker will be in my left jacket pocket. You or Mulder will need to take it after arresting me to keep me safe, they have some cops and FBI on payroll. I'll get away before they get me to the station, it'll look like I had no part in the bust." He finishes talking and then watches me. After a moment he raises his brow to get me to talk.

"You understand what you've done is wrong?" I need to confirm this.

"What I've done is horrible. But Dana, I _had_ to do it," he says.

"Did you come here for another spanking?" I ask point blank.

His brow knits together and he says, "No! You're - you think I deserve..."

"I do. In the very least."

He sits back in his chair and gawks at me. "But they _made_ me," he says in a full whine.

"You chose to stay in this line of work and you could of thought of a plan to end this before the attack on the judge, just like you did to help the scientist and his daughter."

He gives me a crestfallen look. "Me helping the scientist and the girl doesn't negate the judge?"

"No, but it does help," I tell him.

He sighs and looks around in bewildered panic. "I just wanted to give you a nice dinner."

"That's not true. When I asked if you were OK, you said you wanted to wait to talk about this after dinner. You had an ulterior motive."

He pouts at me, looking upset that I'd remembered that.

"Are you really gonna..."

"Yes," I interrupt him. I should arrest him, but I use the excuse of needing him tomorrow for the rescue to quell that instinct.

"But I'm still bruised from last time."

_Last time_. I'd felt so close to him last time he was here, and now _this_. "Then it's going to hurt even worse. I suggest you stop getting into trouble."

He glowers at the floor to his left, avoiding even facing my direction.

I get up from the table and go to the linen closet for a towel. Walking into the living room, I unfold the towel and lay it across the back of my high back end chair. Turning, I see Krycek looking at me warily.

"Now?" he asks sadly.

I nod.

He gets up and walks over slowly with feline grace.

"Bare yourself and lay over the back, please," I walk away to my bedroom as he groans.

"You're getting the belt, aren't you?" His voice is so petulant and childlike that I can't help but smirk.

"Yes," I answer from my closet. I come back with belt in hand.

He's already over the back of the chair, perched high so that he's resting his forearms on the seat with his legs dangling in the air. His bottom is indeed bruised.

I set the belt on the end table and stand next to him. "I'm going to check your bruises," I say.

He flinches when I touch him, but relaxes a second later. If I had to guess, I'd say he liked the inspection of his cheeks.

I get my cuffs and walk to the front of the chair. He looks up at me with large, sheepish green eyes.

"This is gonna be even worse than last time, isn't it?"

"It's going to be appropriately bad," I tell him, and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. "I'm going to cuff you to keep your hands safe."

He lets me cuff him, but grabs my hand before I move away.

"I'm more than this," he tells me desperately.

"Work on showing that," I say and pull my hand free. I grab a throw pillow from the couch and hand it to him. "Bite this to muffle yourself."

He looks so heartbroken that it's hard not to cord my hand through his hair. But I've learned better in watching Mulder go through his punishments. He bites the pillow and looks up at me. His eyes are large and he looks precious like this - but I force myself to keep on track.

I pick up the belt and walk to the back of the chair. His tan bottom looks so good presented like this. I raise the belt and bring it down in the middle of his bottom. He jolts over the chair and makes a strangled sound that's muffled by the pillow. I hit him again and he kicks his legs out, his yell again muffled. The only thing the neighbors will hear is the belt.

The belt lands in a quick rhythm, and his legs kick out behind him. His voice is frantic and pained and soon he twists back and forth over the back of the chair.

"Lay still, you'll tip yourself over," I tell him while still spanking.

He stills for about thirty seconds, and then is twisting his hips again, trying to avoid the belt.

By this time I've made five trips down his cute little butt and the tops of his muscular thighs. He's bright red and is yelling into the pillow.

I look down and see that one corner of the pillow is in his mouth and the rest is held up hiding his face. Somehow, in this instant, it is the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my life. Landing the belt low, I watch him press the pillow to his face and listen to his muffled yell.

"There are other ways you could have handled the judge," I tell him, spanking slower. "We could have helped you fake the attack and put the judge in a guarded hospital room."

"Nmmm so'ree," he says around the pillow.

"Let's make sure," I wrap my arm around his waist and spank hard and fast.

He shrieks and his legs go straight out behind him. Every one of his muscles tenses, and then the dam breaks. He's sobbing hard and flailing his legs, yet being ever careful to keep them from nearing me. He's thrashing around so hard that I have to use my body to help keep the chair in place. Only when his cries approach true duress do I stop. His bottom is definitely bruised, and has a raised welt on each cheek. There is no abraded or broken skin - I'd never go that far.

He continues sobbing over the back of the chair, and I set the belt down and rub his back.

"All done," I tell him.

He spits the pillow out and wipes his face on it. I grab a handful of tissues and hand them to him, and he blows his nose loudly. Finally he slides off the back of the chair and stands next to me, looking down at me sadly.

"I hate that," he whimpers through the last of his tears, his face red and eyes swollen.

I pull him into a hug, despite the fact that his lower half is still uncovered, "There are ways to prevent it from happening."

He harrumphes into my hair and buries his face in my neck.

"Maybe next time you could visit without any confessions to make."

"Next time?" he says hopefully.

I hug him tighter and feel some of the tension leave his body.

He pulls away and tries to give his bottom a rub, but he pulls his hands away with a gasp.

I take the towel from the back of the chair, "Lay on the couch, I'll get you an ice bag." Setting the towel on the couch, I turn to see him blushing. "It will help," I tell him, and point to the couch to let him know it wasn't a suggestion.

"I'm ok," he says and pulls up his underwear and jeans together, keening as the rough material goes over his punished flesh.

"Unless you want more, I suggest you get yourself over here," I put my hands on my hips. "Now."

He gives me adorable, frightened puppy dog eyes and comes over, laying himself down on the couch without pulling his jeans down again.

_Close enough_. I go to the kitchen and quickly pack away the food, then go to the freezer and get an ice pack, a pint of ice cream and two spoons.

I come back and lay the ice pack on his bottom and he exhales slowly. Sitting by his head, I open the ice cream and stick in both spoons, turn on FOX and pull him over so that his head is resting in my lap, and savor the content moan he makes as I do so.

After a few minutes he reaches for the other spoon. "I love ice cream with caramel in it," he says approvingly around the ice cream in his mouth.

"Me too," I smile.

It's odd how natural this feels, the two of us quietly snuggled on the couch eating ice cream together after a long day of work. We polish off the ice cream and watch the show together.

The show ends and I ask, "Is there anything you want to watch?"

"Hmm?" he replies drowsily, then he snuggles closer to me.

I put on another show I enjoy and set the empty pint of ice cream on the end table. I tangle my fingers in his hair and he sighs in his sleep, curling himself into a ball. The ice pack falls and I pick it up and set it in the empty pint of ice cream, then lightly run my nails up and down his back.

When the show ends I start to channel surf, not wanting to get up.

"Thanks," he says in a near whisper.

I jerk, not realizing he was awake. "For what?" I ask, running my hand through his hair.

"Caring."

Squeezing his shoulder I say, "Despite everything, you make it hard not to."

He snorts drowsily, "No one else's ever cared."

I don't know how to answer that, and before I can think of anything to say his breathing slows and I know he's asleep again.

After another hour of television I'm getting sore, and I slink out from under him. I get a pillow and my comforter from my bedroom and tuck him in on the couch, then check my email. That done, I clean up the dishes, take a shower and go to bed.

When I'm nearly asleep my bedroom door opens and he peeks in at me, then closes the door again. The next morning the comforter is folded with the pillow on top, and the front door is locked, but he's no where to be seen. On the table I see the location portion of the tracking device.

I sigh, sad that he isn't here, and get ready for work.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Is anyone enjoying this story? I typically get more feedback than this on the day/few days after I post something. I've not received any except for the first chapter, and am thinking interest has waned.


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